


Car Parts

by orphan_account



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 12:12:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12911676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Gaby wishes a certain someone would come knocking on her garage door.





	Car Parts

The best things in life drove around on four wheels. Gaby Teller had learned that lesson long ago. She had loved and lost many beautiful cars in her day, the destruction of her Alfa Romeo Spider and Ghibli were still painfully fresh in her mind. With her newly-christened international spy lifestyle, her favorite part remained the cars. Not the dresses, not the food or the travel. The cars. Beautiful Maseratis and compact little Beetles made Gaby’s life go round and brought a sense of much-needed familiarity to her new life.  
On her off days she could be found under a car in a little garage she rented a block away from her flat. Projects came and went, she worked mostly alone. Only to be occasionally surprised with a visit from Solo, or even more rarely, Waverly.  
Her other partner had never seen the little garage. He hadn’t sat in her one sagging chair, or drunk all of her booze she had hidden in an unused toolbox like Solo had. He hadn’t politely complimented her craftsmanship and offered a side job or two like Waverly, and he certainly never thought to bring her any take-out Chinese, like he had in a dream of hers. No, Illya never came around. She wondered if he felt no inclination to seek her out on their rare days off. Perhaps instead he went to see Russian operas, like the ones he would listen to while they were on away missions. Her favorite was Swan Lake, of course. Maybe he would go on long jogs through London, or sit in the tube as it ran its course.  
Frankly, she had no idea what he did. She had never sought him out either. It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought to, but she didn’t know what to say. Their elaborate dance was a delicate one. With rules and practices. One did not simply go to the other on a whim, no. There is a story and an explanation. Some kind of justification to see the other, to talk about missions or breathe hints of pasts or futures.  
Gaby didn’t know anything about the future, so she just works on her cars in her little garage a block from her flat. She goes there on her days off and sometimes Solo or Waverly come to visit her. Sometimes she wishes that someone else would come visit her too, but then the carburetor jams or a wheel spins funny and she puts the thought from her mind. If only Illya had exhaust pipes to clean and rear view mirrors to adjust. Oil to change or tires to inflate. Maybe then Gaby would know how to begin to understand her growing feelings about him. Maybe she would have the courage to go and see him.

**Author's Note:**

> My first work! Whew!


End file.
